


It's Only A Scratch

by Cabbagiez



Series: A gaze into The City [1]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band), Ulysses Dies at Dawn - The Mechanisms (Album)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Crimes & Criminals, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Introspection, Jonny is the narrator, Love, Organized Crime, Other, Pre-Canon, Protective Ashes O'Reilly, Protectiveness, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, The Olympians Are Pricks, ashes is called hades the whole time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cabbagiez/pseuds/Cabbagiez
Summary: It’s only a scratch, was a thought that Ulysses of even a few years ago never had. Yes, they had had their fair share of injuries, their fair share of bruises and scrapes others made out to be far worse than they were. However, Ulysses wasn’t an idiot. In the City any wound could be your last- infection is a son of a bitch, and your enemies’ mooks could be even worse.After stealing the Eye from Poseidon, Ulysses finds themself at the receiving end of a "lesson" courtesy of the man himself. They come to their nightly meeting with Hades regardless, and the pair find themselves dealing with both Ulysses' wounds and their own minds.
Relationships: Ashes O'Reilly/Ulysses (Ulysses Dies At Dawn)
Series: A gaze into The City [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143116
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	It's Only A Scratch

_It’s only a scratch,_ was a thought that Ulysses of even a few years ago never had. Yes, they had had their fair share of injuries, their fair share of bruises and scrapes others made out to be far worse than they were. However, Ulysses wasn’t an _idiot._ In the City any wound could be your last- infection is a son of a bitch, and your enemies’ mooks could be even worse.

Heh. Funny how that works.

But anyway, why am I telling you this? Well, it’s very simple actually. On a cold winter night- though the only fact Ulysses knew was _cold-_ There they sat. Resting on a chair in the dark, in the same person they visited more nights than not’s chambers. Bleeding, and pretending they weren’t. I can’t begin to explain their thought processes, the _reasons_ they thought this was a good idea- half because I don’t care, half because there were none. This wasn’t the sort of thing you think out deliberately, you declare to yourself as part of your _list of bad decisions for the day._ No. This was worse. A true impulse decision. Somewhere along the line something in Ulysses’ head had gotten crossed, and instead of informing the person they wanted to see so badly that they were here, and _hurt…_

They just sat there. Staring. Trying to focus their deep blue eyes and ignoring the slow drip trail of blood down their neck. Then the door opened, and Ulysses flinched hard. “Ulysses?” A voice called, and their whole body relaxed. It was only Hades.

Would most people react that way to hearing Hades, mad controller of the Acheron? No- but as I’m sure you’re aware, Ulysses was not most people. So they grinned, ignoring the ache in their cheek, and spoke a reply. “ _Hades,_ ” they said, their voice sounding slightly worse than normal. Slightly more labored. Such a minute difference that anyone could’ve brushed it off as insignificant.

But not Hades, not with _them._ They approached gently, unable to see any of Ulysses’ features in the dark _except_ their beautiful, blue, unfocused eyes. “Darling,” they began, lacing their fingers in Ulysses’, “you should have told me you were here. I would’ve finished up sooner.”

“It’s alright,” Ulysses replied, their teeth glinting slightly in the darkness. “I didn’t mind the wait.”

“Well, no sense keeping you waiting any longer,” Hades said with a look that made the other person blush. Then they did something Ulysses had never expected, despite it being their favored way of showing them affection. They gently cupped the right side of their chin, and rubbed their cheek with their thumb. And two things happened then. One: Ulysses jolted, flinching back and nearly slamming their head hard against the wall behind them, and two: Hades pulled their hand away in surprise, and it came back- not slick, but damp. Damp and smelling of something they couldn’t believe they didn’t notice on the other. They immediately turned on the lights. 

There their lover was: bruised and beaten, a large gash running from the base of their chin on their right side all the way up to become parallel with their nose. What a _pretty_ sight indeed. Hades had to take a moment to register the sight- a fact which confused them. Just moments ago they had been killing some poor sod who had wronged them in some way or another, real or imaginary. Why was this different? Why did the sight of these wounds across Ulysses’ flesh fill them with such anger? Hades didn’t know, but they couldn’t pause to find out- instead they knelt low, watching Ulysses avert their eyes almost in shame and feeling a tug in their heart. “Ulysses…” they began, prompting the other to look at them. There was fury in their eyes like no other. “ _Who did this to you?_ ”

Ulysses was silent. It wasn’t until Hades softened, their expression shifting more to concern for _them_ that they spoke. “Poseidon’s men,” they murmured, fists clenching weakly in anticipation of the inevitable ridicule. Anyone who knew anything knew what Ulysses had done, both at the _behest_ of Poseidon, and against him. And the reason everyone knew was because of a simple, drunken mistake- one I’m sure I don’t need to spell out. The Eye of the Cyclops was in fact still on them, though they didn’t reveal it for reasons which I hope are obvious. Regardless everyone they knew had ridiculed them for this decision, and now it even got them hurt- badly so. They didn’t know if they could handle that from one more person, from _Hades._

Thankfully, they didn’t have to find out. The minute those words left their mouth, the rage filled Hades’ features again. “ _Poseidon’s_ men?” They asked again, scowling as Ulysses nodded gently. “That _fucker._ ”

“Figure it was to teach me a lesson,” Ulysses said, the words souring on their tongue. Some lesson. “They didn’t even steal it back,” they added as an afterthought, noticing the shift in the other’s expression. 

“I don’t _care_ about the Eye, Ulysses,” Hades replied. Their tone was regulated- not cold, but stern. Trying to control their reaction so they didn’t startle the other. “I care about what they did to _you._ ” 

Well. That was a surprise- to no one except Ulysses. But either way, they were surprised- stunned into silence, in fact. They blinked, and the confusion and shock on their face at the admission- that someone cared for them, cared about what happened to them, and not what they had or could do -was enough to make Hades repeat themself. 

“I don’t care about the Eye. I care about _you._ And if that salty sonovabitch thinks he can touch you then he’s got another thing coming…” Hades said. 

Ulysses didn’t understand. No, not didn’t- _couldn’t._ Ten years of being nothing but cannon fodder had left their self worth tanking. For years the only thing that made them worthwhile was what they could do for the Olympians, and here one of them was, after Ulysses had long outlived their usefulness and outright refused to work for the lot of them, telling them they cared. They couldn’t understand, but they did try to _believe-_ which was hard enough when they were sober and unharmed, a damned feat when they had a head full of cheap whiskey and a body littered with wounds. 

“I should take care of these for you,” Hades observed, looking over the wounds. Technically they could send them to a doctor and be done with it. However… No. That was never an option. Ulysses still didn’t speak, so Hades began gathering what they would need, then paused. “Can I move you to the bed?” They asked. 

Silence. Predictably. They always clammed up, when their mind was reminding them of all their inadequacies and their body was reminding them that the one thing they couldn’t forget was pain. Ulysses’ eyes almost looked glazed over, in addition to the unfocused, dilated look. Hades sighed gently, snapping their fingers to bring them back. Worked better than touch. “Huh-“

“After I… deal with your cheek. Bed? So I can take care of everything else?”

Ulysses hesitated, then nodded. Leaning forward to make it easier on them. Again Hades cupped their chin- gently, carefully. And predictably again Ulysses flinched away- but they slowly leaned forward again, letting them take their chin. “Careful,” they whispered through their clenched jaw. Hades hummed gently, a noise of assurance, and brought a cloth dampened with water against the gash. Ulysses hissed, but didn’t move.

“Tell me when to stop,” Hades said- in a tone that mixed order and request so seamlessly. It wasn’t intended as a command of course, they would never order Ulysses around like that. But, at times it was the only way to get them to listen, and if ensuring their comfort meant delivering a few orders then that was the price to pay. They dabbed at it gently, cleaning away the dried blood and dirt with precision. Hades continued humming throughout in an attempt to distract the other- but soon realized it wasn’t quite enough. So, they spoke. “Have you been seeing the Sirens?” They asked, though they already knew the answer.

“Mhm,” Ulysses replied, still speaking through a shut mouth. “E’ry day.”

“And me every night,” Hades mused with a chuckle. “I may not do their job as well as they do, but I hope our meetings are still _pleasant_.”

That brought warmth to their face that Hades was glad to feel, even if it was mildly problematic for the gash. “Of course,” was their somewhat muffled reply, after all speaking with a closed mouth was just a matter of muddled syllables and barely-parted lips. Focus was finally returning to Ulysses’ eyes, though the dilation hadn’t left. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Hades said, smiling- though it took a moment. They had to remind themself that Ulysses was safe with them. They finally pulled the cloth away, having cleaned off their neck in the process. “There you go,” they murmured, giving Ulysses a reassuring look. “Let me bandage it up?”

“Mh,” was Ulysses’ response. Neither a yes or a no.

“I’m going to need a real answer, darling,” Hades replied. 

“Go ahead.”

“Alright,” Hades said, taking care of the wound rather quickly. They didn’t like the look in Ulysses’ eyes, very real fear trying to be hidden by a blasé, passive expression. The idea that Ulysses was scared of them caused a pang of anxiety in their chest, but perhaps worse was the alternative:

The idea that it wasn’t Hades that this person- this former hero -feared, but rather that their fellow Olympians had done something to them, or the War had done something to them, that made them instinctively fearful of even the most well meaning care. Or perhaps, there was no single cause- perhaps the City alone was enough to do this to them. It made Hades’ heart burn. “Ulysses,” they said, again bringing them back from whatever dark place their mind had entered.

“What is it?” Ulysses asked, making eye contact with them. Hades was beautiful, of course, in a way Ulysses didn’t know how to describe. Those eyes trained on them, they didn’t know what to do with- especially with how loving the expression truly was. The last person to look at them like that, with love and worry combined, was…

_Don’t think about her. Don’t. Don’t think._

“The bed?”

“Oh,” Ulysses replied, pausing. “Yeah- of course.” They set their bruised hands in Hades’, accepting their help to stand and stumble to their bed. They sat, and Hades sat beside them, wrapping them in their strong arms and pulling them to their chest.

“Are you bleeding anywhere else?” Hades asked, resting their head on top of Ulysses’.

“No,” Ulysses replied, finally managing a smile. As much as they often hated things around their body, Hades’ warmth was a great source of comfort. 

“Good,” Hades murmured, planting a kiss gently on their unbandaged cheek. “Tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about that _fucker’s_ men anymore.”

“Mmh,” was Ulysses’s response, a positive noise rather than an indifferent one. They leaned close against the other, turning their head so lips met their match. After a few seconds they pulled away, melting into their lover’s arms. “But that’s tomorrow,” they mused.

“That’s tomorrow,” Hades agreed. “How would you like to spend tonight?”

Silence. Ulysses chuckled. “Let’s just rest,” they replied. Hades chuckled too, scooting back with the beautiful person in their arms. They pulled the covers up and laid inside, holding Ulysses close.

Now, everyone knew Hades had no need for sleep- it was one of the reasons they were so effective at their job. Another thing everyone knew was that Ulysses was a horrible insomniac- the screams infested their mind so deeply that it took a night of nothing but whiskey or hours on end with the Sirens just to grant them a twenty minute nap. Despite all this, on that night, a night that by all means should’ve been one of their worst… 

Together in each other’s company, Ulysses’ heavy and labored breathing mixing with Hades’ mechanical precision, they slept as they never had before or since.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! This was my first Mechanisms fic ever!


End file.
